History Repeated
by Lawrence J.S. Dean
Summary: 6 months after Dean wakes up a demon, there's a new hunter in town. But is he more intent on killing Dean or saving him?
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Sam sat in the bunker, staring at the floor. The events of the past 6 months raced through his mind, beating at his brain like a baseball bat. The Mark of Cain had overtaken Dean, Cas' grace was all but diminished and Sam was out of options. He had tried to find Crowley and force him to put back the broken pieces of his brother but, being the King of Hell, and now with Dean as his right-hand man, he cared nothing of Sam's request. Sam researched every one of Bobby's books, read every piece of literature that the Men of Letters had in the bunker and nothing provided him with any solutions; except one. Kevin had taught him how to cure a demon. The only problem was that if Sam cured a demon, he would finish the trials – which would likely kill him. No other hunter could possibly do it because, inevitably, they would kill Dean instead. Then of course was the issue – could he even be cured? Is the Mark too strong to be cured? All of these thoughts made Sam's head hurt and his insides burn with rage.

"It's been six months, Sam." Cas grumbled.

"I know."

"I don't think you understand…"

Sam erupted with anger, "What, Cas? You don't think I understand what? That my brother is a demon? That the Mark of Cain and Crowley have taken him over? That every day he spends as a demon, the less likely he is to be cured? How absolutely and utterly screwed we are?"

"How dangerous it could be to have one of the best hunters on Hell's side." Cas said calmly, but with gravitas.

Sam understood all of these things, but what could he do? There was no hope. The last time he and Dean had spoken, it ended with Cas securing Dean in a Devil's trap and using his fading grace to bring Sam back from the brink of death, which is where Dean had put him. Sam remembered the feeling of Dean's knuckles colliding with his cheeks, his boot across Sam's head and the look in Dean's eyes as he beat his brother to near-death. The lack of concern for Sam's life was evident and unfamiliar. Sam had nothing else to do but pray to an absent God for a solution.

Cas didn't see any other option. It wasn't about Sam. It wasn't even about Dean. Okay, it was a little about Dean. But mainly, it was about the fight between Heaven and Hell. Dean being a demon meant that Hell won. Cas couldn't, wouldn't, let that happen. He had to do this. Sam would probably be angry, but he'd come to understand. This may work to save Dean, but he'd never understand. Even if it cured him, Dean would hate Cas for this, but he had no other foreseeable option. Did he?

**Chapter One**

Anger erupted through Sam's veins as Cas explained what he had done. He was angry because Dean would never forgive him, if this in fact cured him. Cas should have consulted Sam before making such a reckless decision. His fist balled up at his sides, jaw clenched, he tried listening to Cas' reasoning but could barely see past the haze of anger.

"I don't care what you thought, Cas. Do you know how much of a setback this actually is? Not only do I have to deal with the emotional aftermath but I now have another person to be accountable for. I'm barely hangin' on here, Cas."

"I'll help. He'll need all the help he can get once he wakes up."

No sooner than the words left Cas' lips was another presence felt in the room. Sam whipped around to see another person staring awkwardly. He was tall, dark hair and he had _her_ eyes. He was barely recognizable with his tired eyes and confused look. Sam didn't know what to do except wait. Wait for the panic that was sure to set in. Wait for the million questions he'd for which he'd have to find acceptable answers. Wait for the explosion of anger that was sure to follow. Sam used to be good at this kind of thing, but not with him. Not under these circumstances.

"Sam? What the hell is going on? Where am I? Who is the freak in the trench coat?" His eyes flicked with anger but mostly with fear.

"I can explain but maybe y-you should sit down." Sam pulled a chair out from the table and offered it to him.

"No! Tell me what's going on, right now. Am I being kidnapped? Where's Dean?" His hands were shaking and his voice cracked.

"That's kind of what we want to talk to you about. The….weirdo's name is Castiel, er, Cas. I really think you should sit down."

"I want to see Dean. I have questions for him, too."

Sam could see the desperation in his eyes and didn't have the heart to tell him about Dean, yet. Sam sat down at the head of the table. Cas sat next to him in hopes that their new companion would follow suit.

"It's been a week. Castiel, or whatever his name is, just _left _me there. He swooped in and did some weirdo magic trick on our brains and then left." Tears streamed down his face as he collapsed into a chair, his head falling into his hands.

"I know that getting your memory back had to have been a big shock…" Sam said.

"You think that's why I'm pissed? Really?" He looked at Sam and Cas, realizing that they didn't know what had happened after Cas had zapped their memories back in.

"It took them three days to find us. Casjust showed up while we were having dinner and touched our heads and all of a sudden all of these memories of Dean come flooding in our heads. Happy memories. It was confusing and my head felt like it was on fire."

"I know, trust me I do. When I got back…." Sam wasn't about to liken this to his return from Hell. He sat back, motioned for him to go on and listened; he wasn't sure what else he could do.

"That only lasted for a day or so. She started looking for him. Called his cell phone, tried to reach Dean anyway she could. To get answers, you know? But he never answered. Then, two days ago…" Tears welled in his eyes, though he tried to suppress them. His next words came out in a burst, more like a yell than a sob, "A demon killed her!"

Sam's stomach dropped. His eyes met Cas'. They both knew there who was responsible for this. The only demon who could have done this was Crowley. No low-level demon would have cared. Crowley knew the implications, though. He knew Cas' plan.

"How did you get away?" Sam asked, fervently.

"Luckily, I had all these great memories that had just come back and I ran into the kitchen for salt. I drew a circle around myself and waited. He just looked at me and smiled, then left. God those eyes…"

Sam couldn't imagine Crowley being scared of salt. If Crowley let him go, there was another reason for it. Sam's head was buzzing with information. He didn't know where to start. He was so angry at Cas, but he could tell that Cas was angrier at himself for not realizing this could happen. There was nothing anyone could say to ease the pain of the loss this young man had suffered. Sam knew what was in store for him. Revenge. Sam and Dean had lived this when their mother died. Every move they made was in connection with the way their mother died, the way Jess died, and now…now her.

"We're going to help you make this right, we are." Sam said, knowing this was of no solace.

"How? Are you going to bring her back?"

Sam looked over at Cas' whose grace was probably hanging by a thread if it wasn't already gone. He knew the answer was no. They all did. Sam explained that the only way they could help was to kill the demon responsible. That was their plan all along. That was why he was brought into this mess. That's why she died.

Sam explained everything. He started with Dean being a demon. This maybe would make the rest of it seem like a cake-walk. It took Sam hours to tell him everything about the last few years and what he had missed. About the Leviathan, Metatron, the war in Heaven and why Dean took on the Mark of Cain. After Sam was finished, they all sat in silence. Saying it out loud made Sam realize how crazy it all sounded. Cas' head hung in shame as he sat in silence.

"I know this is a lot to take in and we can't force you to help us." Sam said, "But we were hoping…"

"I'll do it."

Sam sighed heavily, unsure if it was a sigh of relief or contention, as Sam secretly hoped that he would say no, "Thank you. We'll get Dean back, ok?"

"I'm not doing this for Dean. Screw Dean. This is his fault."

"You're right." He was right. As much as Sam didn't want to admit it, and as much as it would kill Dean to know, he was right. "Then let's do it for Lisa."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Ben sat across the table from Sam and Cas, completely broken. The moment his mom's neck snapped from the twist of Crowley's putrid hand replayed in his head. He dreamt about it. Dreamt about killing Crowley, but the fact of the matter was, he didn't know much about how. He knew a few tricks he'd picked up from Dean – salt, holy water, that kind of thing – but that would only keep him alive for a little while. He needed to know how Dean and Sam made this their lives. He wanted to find Crowley and kill him, for his mom.

The last time he saw Dean, was so long ago. He remembers being betrayed. A demon had almost killed both of them. His memories were removed so that he wouldn't remember any of it. So that he wouldn't be in danger, because that's all Dean brought to his family. And now he has them back. He remembered learning how to repair a carburetor with Dean. He remembered Dean tucking him into bed, lovingly checking for the boogey man. He remembered Dean being the only father figure he'd ever had and ever really loved. But most of all, he remembered Dean walking away. He remembered Dean making the decision for him and Lisa. They could have stayed together, learned how to fight together. Maybe then his mom would be alive. Ben turned his face down, to hide the tears from Sam and Cas. He needed to be a man now. Not a boy. They had work to do.

"Where do we start?" Ben asked, standing up in front of Sam and Cas.

"Well, we don't have much of a lead right now, and after Cas used some of his grace to…"

"Wait…his what?" Ben was confused already.

"I'll explain that later. Basically, it's been a hell of a night and we all need to rest. Get some sleep and we'll start first thing in the morning."

Ben followed Sam to a dormitory style room. It looked seemingly void of all personal effects, save for one picture. Ben picked the picture up and read the inscription on the back. _Mary and Dean Winchester, 1982. _It was amazing how much Ben and Dean looked alike.

"Sam…can I talk to Cas? Alone?"

Sam nodded and left the room. A moment later, Cas walked in, exhaustion scattered across his body. Ben offered him a seat, studying Cas thoroughly. He had kind eyes that were piercingly blue but hid sadness. His face was starting to show signs of aging; his hands were scuffed and scratched. Ben wanted to interrogate him but was far too exhausted, himself. There was one thing, however, he wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing.

"Cas, I need to ask you something. I want to believe my mother never lied to me but maybe she was protecting me when I asked…"

"She lied." Cas didn't need to hear the rest of Ben's sentence. He knew.

Ben 's heart leapt into his throat. He wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to, but couldn't. His energy and emotions would be wasted.

"Did anyone else know? Sam? Dean?"

"No."

"How long have you known?" Ben's eyes gazed upon Cas' face, seeing the slight distress that came across the corners of his lips.

"I've known since the moment I erased your memories."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? It could have saved…everyone."

"It wasn't my place to tell. It was your mother's. And that memory…that memory was one that I erased, on Dean's request. To be honest, I needed you both to be the least of his worries. I am truly sorry, Ben. There are many mistakes that have been made."

Ben knew that it wasn't Cas who owned the memory, and therefore not his memory to share. That didn't make the realization any less painful for him Ben felt as if he had spied on his mother. These were deep intimate thoughts of hers that he should have had the courage to ask her when she was alive. Ben's stomach felt as though it would jump from his throat and onto the floor next to him. He replayed the moment of his mother's death over and over, each time heating the fire that burned in his chest. Cas left the room, allowing Ben to rest. Ben knew that he wouldn't rest well for a long, long time.


End file.
